The Master and the Servant
by Suzanne Cross
Summary: Book one in my Hunters series. Rowena, the one-quarter vampire and the vampire hunter for the Non Human Police Force: The Hunters, has been hired to hunt down a serial killing vampire. But to track down her psycho, Rowena needs the help of the Master Vampire of the City, Wolfric. It's too bad that he's a pompous scumbag, because he is one handsome bastard and totally her type too.
1. Chapter 1

**W**hat was it about the night that called to the soul? Was it the cool breeze that whispered its secrets to you as it slid across your face? Or was it the promise of another day? Maybe one better than the previous.

For me, I've always thought of the night as an adventure. A thrill. The thought that that night might in fact be my last caused adrenaline to pump through my veins. The thrill of the hunt stimulated both my mind and my predatory instincts.

My name is Rowena Jane McCoy. No relation to the famous McCoys, if you were wondering. Both my friends and my enemies call me RJ, though I hate the nickname with a fiery passion.

I passed a very cute guy on the streets of New York City. He sent me an inviting smile which I returned in kind. He was human. Too bad. Not that I had anything against humans. No, they sometimes had a problem against girls like me. Guys tended to be turned off when they found out that their girlfriend was one-quarter vampire and sometimes liked to nibble on their necks. It didn't help that while they aged I continued to stay young and healthy. Thanks, Grandma.

I did not stop and try to strike up a conversation, I was running late for work. Normally, that wouldn't bother me any other day of the week, but I've been ordered to show up tonight. That could only mean one thing: I had an assignment. Excitement had gotten me out of bed at dusk instead of sleeping till ten as I usually did.

When I passed him, I felt the weight of good ol' boy's gaze on my ass. With a smile, I put a little more of a sway in my hips. Just to show off. I do have a very nice ass. It should be appreciated to the fullest.

I stopped in front of one of New York's night hot dog stands. I was a regular here at George's Dogs. I usually packed away two of George's dogs before heading into the office.

George greeted me with a smile, "Hey, RJ. I've already gotten your usual ready for ya." He reached down and pulled out two tinfoil wrapped hot dogs. "Here ya go. Two dogs with extra mustard and chili. Just the way you like it."

I barely managed to keep myself from drooling. I was starving. I accepted the dogs and paid the man, "Thanks, George."

George propped his arms on the stand and studied me with his green eyes twinkling. When I lifted a brow in question with the first dog halfway devoured, the smile under George's red mustache flashed impishly. "When are you going to come to your senses and marry me, RJ? We can elope to Puerto Rico."

I chuckled at that. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to lure me away to Puerto Rico. "I've already told you , George. I have to be free to let the men of the world enjoy me. I can't be chained to one man." I flicked the top of the Yankees cap he wore just enough to expose his pointed ears, "Or goblin."

He tugged down the cap with a grin that was full of sharp, pointy teeth, "Hey! I'm only half Goblin!"

I just smiled in reply.

George let out an exaggerated, heartfelt sigh and clutched at his chest, "You're breaking my heart, RJ."

I shrugged, "It happens. I'll see you tomorrow night, George." I continued my journey to the office.

When I passed a Starbucks, I couldn't resist rushing in and ordering a tall Java Chip Frappachino. I sipped at it as I hurried down the sidewalk. I detested hot coffee. The cold stuff was my personal drug of choice.

Finally, I reached the office. It wasn't anything spectacular. The Non Human Police Force was fairly new. Ten years to be precise. Thus, it wasn't well-funded much to my aggravation.

NHPF headquarters rests in an old business building with only about five stories. It sorely needed some life breathed into it. The Chief had immediately rejected my suggestion that they should paint the building purple. I thought he had been too stingy. The building looked almost abandoned save for the lights glowing through the windows. It wasn't perfect, but it was home.

I checked my watch and grimaced a little. Midnight. My chat with George and my coffee cravings had caused me to be fifteen minutes late. The Chief wouldn't be too happy with me.

I shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time I'd been late. Actually, I was usually much later than this so I think it would be alright.

I made my way into the building and to the elevator. The inside was not much of an improvement from the outside of the building. The tile that had been originally white was now tan with age. The lights from the ceiling cast the hallway in a yellowish glow. Though police officers in uniforms hurried down the halls and despite the persistent shrill of the a telephone the hallway seemed an abandoned wasteland.

I responded cheerfully to the greetings as the heels of my black boots clicked down the hall. Unlike the other officers, I wasn't in the blue uniform. I liked leather. Maybe it was the vampire in me that adored the color black, but that was what I wore most days. Other than the rare occasions when I arrived on the job in my pink skull pajama shorts and a large t-shirt with Hello Kitty on it (I kept an extra pair of pink bunny slippers in my office), I had my own uniform. Leather high-heeled boots, which I preferred because it made me taller and more intimidating than my own five feet and five inches. Tonight I'd chosen a tight black t-shirt and had thrown my leather jacket over it. Instead of my usual black leather pants, I'd decided on dark, tight jeans.

All the black, including the mass of midnight curls that fell to my waist, made my skin seem paler than it actually was. Why not? Vampires were supposed to be pale, right? I would have liked for my eyes to have been black too. Just to keep that hard-ass image. But I was okay with the smoky grey color they were.

I tapped my toe as I waited for the elevator to climb to the fifth floor. I was anxious tonight. It had been a while since I'd been asked for specifically and I was itching for some action.

I waved at the Chief's secretary Julia. The ghost girl smiled at me and went back to her work.

Without knocking, I let myself into Chief Howard Granger's office.

Howard Granger had once been a college football star at Ohio State before his family had been attacked and killed by vampires nearly twenty years ago. At the age of forty-three, he still kept himself in excellent shape. He had the size and the physique of an athlete and the buzz cut of one as well. His skin was nicely tanned and his blue eyes scowled at me as I planted myself in the chair across from him.

"You're late," he said gruffly.

"And?" I responded just as gruffly.

He shook his head and retrieved a single file from the stack on his desk and tossed it in front of me. "That's your next assignment."

I eagerly snatched up the folder and opened it on his desk and studied it carefully. I frowned at what I read and looked up at him, "Serial murders?"

The Chief reached over and tapped on one word in the report that his organized self had highlighted: _Vampire_.

"But it doesn't say who." When the Chief nodded I groaned, "You mean I've got to find out who it is before I kill him? I hate playing detective, Chief. Can't you just get somebody else to work this case? When you find out who it is, I'll gladly kill him."

My boss's face was impassive, but his eyes glittered with amusement. He was glad I was unwilling to do it. The bastard.

"This guy has already slaughtered twelve people, RJ. I want my best man to catch him as quickly as possible and get him off the streets. That's you."

Because it was true, except for the man part that is, and I couldn't argue I folded my arms over my chest and pouted, "Fine. But I won't like it."

The Chief smiled a little, obviously enjoying my sulking. "Noted. Now, go and get your stuff and get to work."

I grumbled but left his office, the file tucked safely under my arm. Julia laughed silently at the look on my face. She was one of those ghosts that couldn't speak. How she was an affective secretary and had managed to keep the job for ten years escaped me.

I ignored her and made my way down the hallway towards my office.

The door had _The Hunters _painted in red on the glass. It had been my idea.

The Hunters had been established a few years after NHPF had been. When some of the monsters had kept right on killing while ignoring the newly placed laws, it had been apparent that they needed to be taken care of. That's where we come in. Me and my other four associates-okay, they're my friends too-are experts in different creatures of the dark. Me? I'm the Vampire Slayer. Ironic, isn't it?

My appetite returned so the first thing I did once I walked through the door was go to the snack machine. I chose a Snickers bar and gleefully unwrapped it and dug in.

Willow Parker gave me a disgusted look as she glided elegantly by me. "How can you eat so much and never get fat?"

This by-play had been exchanged many times before, but I decided to roll with it. I smiled, "Good genes."

Her mouth curled up in a smile. Willow was half elf and it was totally obvious. Even without the pointy ears, her emerald-green eyes and her waist length, ridiculously straight, pale blonde hair were dead giveaways. Willow dealed in all things Faerie. Though she was soft-spoken, she could easily kill you in seconds. Tinkerbell she was not. I respected the hell out of her for that.

Her eyes went to the folder in my hand, "New case?"

I nodded and let her read it, "Serial killer."

Her expression was calm as she scanned the contents but her eyes sparkled with interest, "Intriguing."

I laughed. It had been awhile since a Faerie crime had occurred and Willow was just as antsy as I. The half-breed was just better at hiding it than me.

Willow sighed with what might have been envy and handed the case file back to me, "I'll let you get to it then." She strolled away and disappeared into her office. I always envied the way she seemed to float everywhere.

Before I was ready to "get to it", I needed to hunt up our resident geek.


	2. Chapter 2

I found the geek in his office, his fingers flying across the keyboard at lightning speed. His brows were furrowed as he squinted at the computer screen, he'd apparently forgotten to put on his glasses.

I had to admit, Camden Jefferson was the cutest nerd I knew. His short dark blonde hair was unkempt and wavy. At the moment it appeared as though he'd pushed his fingers through it. Camden had puppy dog eyes, I was always a sucker for big chocolate-brown eyes on a guy. He had boyish good looks and he'd forgotten to shave this morning so he had a bit of stubble on his face.

"Hey there, cutie."

He looked up with a grin, "Hey yourself."

I went to stand behind him and peered curiously over his shoulder at the screen, "Ghouls?"

He shrugged, "It's for Dana."

I nodded my understanding, that was answer enough. Dana Wright was another member of the Hunters. She's a spiritualist and she deals in all things spiritual. "You got a minute?"

He swiveled around in his chair to face me, "Sure. Whatcha got?"

I handed him the file. As he flipped through it I said, "I need some info on the vics."

Camden spun around and worked his magic. Without looking back he asked, "Anything specific I should be looking for?"

I was always impressed at his multitasking. I leaned in to get a closer look and watch, "Just the basics. Who, what, where, when." I already knew the how.

Camden whistled his amazement at what he read as he squinted at the screen, "Messy stuff."

I didn't bother to comment on that. I'd see the crime scene photos for myself as soon as I got back to my office. "Where are your glasses, cutie?"

He blinked as if I'd woke him from a trance. Patting his jacket pockets, he glanced around his desk, "I'm not sure, I had them a while ago. Maybe they grew legs and ran off."

I took my own look around, then I spotted them. I bit back a grin as I retrieved the glasses from the flower-pot on the windowsill. I dangled them from my fingers and turned around, "I think I found them."

Frowning, he took the glasses from me. He glared at the flower-pot as if it had stolen his glasses, "Don't ask me how they got there because I don't know. I don't even think I've gone to that side of the room today."

I fought back another smile. Camden's habit of loosing things happened on a daily basis. He would set things down and then simply forget where he put them. How a genius with an IQ of 299 managed to forget where he placed things was beyond me

My thoughts were broken when the printer came to life and started spitting out papers. When it finished, Camden picked up the stack and, after rummaging through his desk looking for the stapler, stapled them together. He handed them to me, "Here you are, gorgeous."

A grimaced at the thickness, but took it. After tucking it into the folder I glanced speculatively at our residential genius, "You got any new equipment?"

That boyish grin flashed with glee, "As a matter of fact I do. Do you want to see it?"

"You bet," I followed Camden through a door in the corner of his office. This room used to be a conference room of sorts before Camden made it his very own mad scientist lab. Everywhere you looked there were all sorts of weapons in different states of repair and destruction. Camden wasn't like the rest of the Hunters, he didn't work on cases. Camden helped all of us with any research that we needed and he also designed the various weapons we needed to deal with the creatures we saw every night. He may not know how to use this stuff, but he sure knew how to build it.

We made our way to the workbench in the back of the room. What I saw on the table made me want to rub my hands together in anticipation. "No way! A stake gun!" I rushed forward and picked up the machine gently in my hands. I'd seen the movie _VanHellsing _not too long ago. When I saw Hugh Jackman shooting down vampires with his stake gun I'd immediately called Camden and asked him if it was possible. And now I had my own!

I studied the weapon carefully. It was big, but not heavy, I'd easily be able to hold it with one hand. Inside it were over a dozen silver, sharp stakes. Wooden stakes wouldn't stop the vampires today, no sir.

You see, vampires aren't undead, soulless beings that don't like crosses, Garlic, holy water, or stakes like humans used to believe. They are very much alive. One did not die after being bit by a vampire and then arise from their grave a few nights later like in an old horror flick. In order to become a vampire you either had to be born as one or you had to exchange blood with one three different times. Holy water and crosses have no effect on them, they have souls and aren't damned. They can be killed if they lost enough blood, if their heads are chopped off, or their bodies are burned. Vampires can be killed, it just isn't easy.

I set down the gun and threw my arms around Camden's neck and planted a big smacking kiss on his startled mouth. "Thank you! Thank you! I love it!"

He laughed and managed to unwind my arms from around his neck, "It was nothing really. I liked working on it. It was a challenge."

I spun away from Camden and lifted my new toy in the air. "I'm going to test this bad boy out on that murderous bastard I'm looking for. He's going to be my guinea pig!"

I planted a loud kiss on Camden's cheek as I hurried out of the room. I nearly sprinted to my office and almost smiled at the way Dana blinked at me as I whisked by her. In my office, I dug in my drawer and clipped my Beretta to my side. I was already armed with the Browning in a holster at the small of my back under my jacket and a small number of knives hidden in various places on my body, so the other gun along with the stake gun might be overkill. But, hey, a girl's gotta protect herself.

Frowning down at the surface of my desk, I thought about taking my laptop. I could use my phone as a hot spot and it might come in handy. I grabbed it.

I looked down at my hands and let out a huff of breath. My hands were full. I managed to rummage up a gym bag and put the stake gun, the computer, and the file in the bag and slung it over my shoulder. Before I walked out of the door, I spotted the pair of Nikes I kept in my office.

What the hell. I might need to run down some bad guys tonight. I'm pretty good at running in my boots, but to catch a vampire I'd need the Nikes. I grabbed them too and stuffed them into the bag with the rest of the stuff.

I left my office and started for the exit. I still had to walk home and grab my motorcycle, I can't walk to the scene of the last murder it was too far. I needed transportation.

I made another quick stop at the vending machine. This time I'd opted for a bag of MM's. They were my weakness.

To my aggravation, I was stopped at the door. With his hand grasping my arm to halt my attempt at escape, Hank Rockwell turned me towards him.

His golden eyes were curious under those dark brows, "Where you off to in such a hurry?"

Hank had a bit of a southern drawl. Something you didn't see much around New York. Before he'd come to New York, Hank had grown up in a small town somewhere in Texas, he'd never told me what town. I'd always found it funny that a werelion said "ya'll".

I brushed a stray curl out of my eyes and glared up at him. The angle I had to tip my head was nearly painful, Hank was six-seven to my five-five. The boots didn't help much.

I was usually happy to see Hank's ruggedly handsome face. We'd had a thing once, well, that's actually a lie. We _still _had a thing every now and then. Usually, the sight of the 5 o' clock shadow on his face made me want to back him into his office and jump his bones. But right now, I was in a hurry and I wasn't in the mood for 20 questions.

I jerked out of his grasp and continued out the door, throwing my answer over my shoulder, "Case. Leaving. Bye."

I heard his bark of laughter as I stalked down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

I've never liked cars.

I hated the confinement of the metal shell around me. But in the New York traffic, being in a car was nearly suffocating. Waiting in traffic was brutally boring and annoying. My Crotch Rocket was much faster and I didn't have to sit in the confines of a car. I was out in the open, feeling the breeze slapping against me. It was oddly comforting.

The newest crime scene wasn't all that far from my apartment, so I reached it in no time. I parked my bike and made my way to the back of the building, my gym bag slung over my shoulder and the file under my arm. I stopped in my tracks when I glanced at the name of the bar: Bloody Mary's. I raised my brows at that; obviously a vampire hangout. Interesting.

I stored that little bit of information in my mental filing cabinet and went to investigate my crime scene.

The back of the building was as dirty as you'd expect from a New York alley and the smell made me scrunch my nose in distaste.

Flipping open the file, I searched for the photos of the crime that had been committed here only a few nights ago. I held up the photo of the dead woman and tried to imagine the body fresh in front of me. It wasn't hard, the picture was very graphic.

She'd been a redhead by the name of Jena Wright, attractive with big...headlights. Our serial killer has good taste. The body had been found behind the bar's dumpster, her clothes had been torn, the tiny skirt pushed up to her waist. A ripped black thong lay nearby along with her discarded five-inch stilettos. She'd obviously been raped, the medical examiner had found semen which confirmed it.

Usually, cops would be jumping up and down at the presence of DNA evidence, but not this time. Vampires aren't usually recorded in DNA databases. Some are, but those are mainly newly made or young vampires. There's a couple of reasons for that: one, the new vampires are required by law to provide DNA evidence since they're now considered citizens. Two, the older vampires cling to tradition and sometimes hide in the shadows of society and aren't required to give DNA since they have only been citizens for the last ten years. Plus, the police can't track down every vampire in the country to gather DNA evidence. Lets face it, if someone doesn't want to be found, you're not going to find them. Especially since vampires were believed to be a myth for thousands of years and the human race has only known them to exist for the last ten years.

Her neck was nothing but a big gaping hole where our vampire had torn her throat out. Unnecessarily messy of him. Vampires didn't need the tearing to feed, the sinking of fangs into a vein should suffice, then they just suck the blood out from the wounds. They are no holes in the fangs, contrary to the beliefs.

The animalistic nature of the kill told me that our vampire serial killer was either stark raving mad or coldly brutal who enjoyed inflicting pain for the hell of it. I pulled another photo out of my ginormous folder, it was a close up shot of the slashes across the victim's chest and stomach. On one naked breast there had been another ravaged bite. And across her stomach and down her chest were deep, deep gouges.

These wounds were somewhat puzzling to me. They were obviously the killing blow, especially where our killer had cut her heart out of her chest. The tearing of her throat and breast spoke more of a crazy animalistic behavior, but the cutting was careful and precise. In my opinion, our vampire was a cold psychotic character. By the amount of blood, the vamp hadn't even really fed from the woman. He'd torn her to shreds just for fun, not for food. One bad mofo; one that kills for pleasure not necessity.

Had she screamed? By the lack of defensive bruising on her pale skin, I doubted it. I was betting on mind control, that meant that our vamp was an old and powerful one to keep her from screaming as he cut her up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Scanning the police report, I noticed with a frown that when the police had questioned the people in the club and the bartender, no one had recognized our victim. Now that was strange, she had obviously been dressed for a night out. By the look of the pictures and the bright red color of the blood in the photos, the kill had been fresh. There's no way he moved her here from somewhere nearby. Besides, there were not many other bars in the area. This woman had been in that club and had possibly met her killer in that same bar. So why was it that nobody recognized her or seen who she'd left with? Now that was the mystery.

Well, there was only one way to get the answer to my question. I retrieved a more glamorous shot of Ms. Wright out of the file and put the rest of it away in my gym bag. With it slung over my shoulder, I started towards Bloody Mary's.

My first impression of the bar didn't really impress me much. There weren't actually that many vampires in the bar itself, mainly human wannabes or some girls looking for a night with a monster. Honestly it wouldn't do me any good to talk to the humans, if they had happened to be here the night of the murder I suspect their minds had been messed with and they wouldn't remember anything important.

The vampires on the other hand might be chalk full of useful info. Vampires can't usually control the minds of their own kind, but on the other hand if this bad guy was as powerful as I was beginning to believe he was he probably could and did mess with the younger vamps in the bar. If I was lucky, there could have been an older vampire at the bar that night who wouldn't have been as easily manipulated as their younger brethren by my psycho.

I pushed through the doors and winced at the onslaught of Screamo music to my eardrums. The walls were scarlet red velvet with vampire movie posters adorning them. Tacky, in my opinion, but who was I to judge. Plus the wannabees seemed to like it just fine. The lights were dim in the bar, but with my excellent night-vision, I could see perfectly.

I merely glanced at the dance floor where humans and vampires alike writhed to the rhythm of what I deemed loosely music. Instead, I headed straight towards the glossy, dark wood bar.

It was full and pretty much everyone there was taller than me so I had a tough time pushing my way to the bar. A human male stepped out in front of me and gave me the once-over, "Hey, baby. You want me to buy you a drink?"

I ignored him and turned my attention to the vampire bartender. He looked young, though the thrum of power he gave off said he was easily three hundred years old. Not bad-looking, I decided, if you liked the whole lean, starving artist look, which I didn't. I liked a guy with plenty of meat on the bone.

The bartender turned towards me and I caught his eyes with a smile. He came over and asked, "What'll you have?"

I put a Ben Franklin in his hand and said with a smile, "Some information."

He raised his brows at that but tucked the money into his pocket. He started to open his mouth but I held up a hand, "Is there somewhere else we can talk?"

The bartender studied me for a moment, but waved over another man and whispered something in his ear. When he straightened he motioned for me to follow him out a back door. I followed.

It appeared to be some sort of office, the walls were still red, but it was decorated with tasteful art and not movie posters. The bartender went and sat in the office chair behind the antique desk. Propping his feet on the top of it, he sat back in his chair and raised brows at me, "Okay? What do you want to know?"

I glanced around the office, "I assume you're not just the bartender, huh?"

The corner of his mouth lifted up, "Nope, I own the place. The name's Daniel Baxter. And you would be?"

I dug out my badge and held it up so he could see it, "Rowena McCoy, I'm with the Hunters."

Interest gleamed in those pale blue eyes, "Ah, this must be about that murder the other night." His head titled to the side in obviously false confusion, "I thought the police had already investigated."

"I'm not the police."

He laughed, "That's true, you don't act like a cop. You're more like a predator."

I grinned, flashing fangs, "It's what I'm good at."

He smiled in return as if he understood. Then the smile vanished and his face blank, "Now, Ms. McCoy what is it that I can do for you?"

Flashing him the photo I asked, "Did you see her here the other night?"

Baxter studied the photo and slowly nodded, "Yeah, but only for a moment or so. She came up to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks, that was it. It was a busy night so I didn't really pay that much attention to her after that."

So he had seen her when others hadn't. So far, so good. "Did you happen to notice if she left with someone? Another vampire perhaps?"

Shaking his head, Daniel replied, "No. Like I said, it was busy and she was just another customer. But." Taking his feet off the desk Daniel set planted them on the floor and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He met my eyes, "I felt a presence here that night. Something old and powerful, I looked for the source of power the entire night, but whoever it was was able to cloak themselves from me."

Mind fucking a three hundred year old vampire wasn't easy at all. My psycho was one tough bastard, "How old do you think this guy is?"

Baxter pushed his hands through his already unkempt hair, "I think maybe a thousand years at least. Maybe older."

Shit. "Around what time did the presence evaporate, Daniel?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes in thought, "Uh, I think somewhere around 2 a.m. maybe."

I ruffled through the folder and found that Jena Wright's estimated time of death had been around 2 to 4 a.m. She must have been killed as soon as the two of them had left the bar together.

I checked the witness reports and raised my eyebrows at the report from Daniel Baxter, "Why didn't you tell the cops what you told me?"

He shrugged, "I don't trust humans. Plus, if I'd told them I had felt someone strong in the club, would they have understood?"

I shook my head, "Probably not."

"What are you going to do now?" the club owner asked me with serious eyes.

That was a very good question. I tapped my toe of my boot on the carpet as I thought. "Powerful vampire may mean that he's a guest in town to visit the Master of the city, or it could even be one of his vampires that's doing the killings. I need to talk to Wolfric."

"And if the Master knows nothing about your killer?"

I shrugged, "I'll just wing it."

Daniel Baxter got to his feet and offered his hand, "It was nice to meet you Ms. McCoy. I wish you luck in finding your murderer."

I shook the offered hand and pressed my card into his palm, "If you feel that presence again or you think of something helpful, give me a call."

He tucked the card into his shirt pocket and escorted me out.

On my way out the door, I got stopped by the same guy at the bar. Great.

The college boy grinned drunkenly at me and tried to pull me onto the dance floor. After I pushed him off for the third time, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind. His words slurred in my ear, "Come one, don't play hard to get. Just one dance."

I'd had enough. Grabbing the guy's wrist, I slid my feet apart, positioned my weight and threw the guy over my shoulder and onto the floor.

All talking, dancing, and drinking stopped and the club was silent.

Mr. Macho blinked up at me for a second before he turned on his side with a groan and lost his lunch all over the floor.

Charming, I thought with distaste. Stepping over the fallen drunk, I made my way out the door with the weight of eyes on my back.

As I made my way towards my bike, I thought about my next move. I really do need to speak with the Master of the city, Wolfric. He was top gun around these parts and if there was a powerful vampire in his territory, he should know about it.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste, if only he wasn't such a pompous, irritating bastard. On my list of people I'd like to punch, he was pretty high up on that list. Sighing, I straddled my bike, I was just going to have to get over my dislike of Wolfric and grin and bear it.

You gotta do whatcha gotta do.


	4. Chapter 4

No matter how much of a bastard Wolfric was, I had to admit he had style.

The big bad vampire didn't live in a dark and dreary Gothic castle. Oh no, he had to live in a charming, but old, townhouse where the living room was probably as big as my whole apartment.

Well, I suppose if I had the funds to do so, I too would live in such style. Maybe when I grow up to be as old as Wolfric then I might be better at managing my money. I highly doubt that. Money burns holes in my pockets. My philosophy is: Money is meant to be spen, preferably on clothes or, even better, shoes! Every girl's best friend.

Mr. Fancy Shamncy even had his own two-car garage and a bit of a driveway which many New Yorkers didn't have. Since it was handy and this wasn't the type of neighborhood where my bike would be dismantled or stolen, I parked it and pocketed the keys then headed for the door.

There was no doorbell, only a heavy old-fashion iron knocker with the face of a wolf on it. Cute.

Lifting my hand I wrapped the knocker against the heavy wooden door. The knocks seemed to echo and made the place seem empty, even though I damn well knew he was home.

I stepped back as the door opened and Wolfric's werewolf bodyguard-slash-secretary opened the door and blinked those big brown eyes down at me. Mitchell Downs crossed his thick arms over his impressive chest and raised a brow as he stared down (why is everyone friggin' taller than me?!) and waited for an explanation.

I flashed him one of my best smiles, which didn't seem to impress him much.

"What is it, RJ?"

Holding up my hands in feign innocence, I pouted, "Can't I just drop in to say hello?"

His only answer was to narrow his eyes.

Sighing, I coughed it up, "I need to speak with Wolfric."

I watched fascinated as the ex-marine pulled a blackberry out of his back pocket and scrolled through its mysterious contents, "You don't have an appointment."

That turned my fascination into a glare, "Does it look like I care if I have an appointment or not?" I fished out my badge and shoved it up against his nose, "I'm here on police business, so either take me to him or get the hell out of my way."

Mitchell pushed my badge away from his nose and rubbed it with the other hand as he glared down at me. I gave him my scariest glare right back.

With a sigh of either irritation or defeat (guess which one I was betting on), Mitchell turned, "Fine. Follow me."

As I followed Mitchell, I couldn't help but admire Wolfric's attractive home. He was obviously a lover of the arts, I noted as we passed walls adorned with tasteful art pieces.

Despite the warm color of the walls and the cozy looking furniture, emphasized by the roaring fire in the stone fireplace, the place just didn't feel like a home to me. It looked as though it was a set for a Good House-keeping magazine. A set, that's the best she could describe it. It just didn't have that lived in feel to it.

"I bet Wolfric doesn't entertain much, huh?" I asked Mitchell's back.

"Not much," he agreed. "He conducts much of his vampire business at his club. He spends very little time here."

Wolfric owned one of the hottest nightclubs in New York City, Blood City; a notorious vampire-human club. I've never been there myself. Okay, lie, I've been there once and it's where I met Wolfric for the first time. That was before I'd known he was the Master Vampire of the city. We hit it off real good until he'd asked me to go to dinner with him. Oh, I said yes. But it kind of turned me off when we went up to his office (so he could get his coat) and found a pretty blond sitting on his desk, wearing nothing but a saucy smile. Yeah, that kinda ruined our dinner plans.

Not long afterwards, I found out who he was exactly. Wolfric asked me out again, but I hadn't been interested.

Still not, I corrected myself.

I nearly bumped into Mitchell when he suddenly stopped. Peering around him, I noticed we'd come to a closed door.

Uh oh. "This isn't his bedroom is it?" I tried not to picture a half-naked Wolfric sitting on black silk sheets. But hey, I may be not interested, but I'm not dead.

Now Mitchell turned to me and raised a brow. Damn it, I must be blushing. "No. This is his office."

I sighed inwardly with relief.

Giving me one last look, Mitchell knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

God. It's been awhile since I've heard that Scottish bur. Did I mention that I'm a sucker for guys with accents?

"RJ's here to see you, Rick. Says it's police business," he called through the door.

The Master didn't answer right away. "Come in."

Mitchell the werewolf opened the door and stepped back to allow me through. As I stepped past him, he said, "I'll wait out here."

The door closed behind me and I met the pale green eyes of the Master of the City, Wolfric, across his desk.

He was still one of the most handsomest men I've ever seen. He was a little taller than Hank, which made him like six eight and he came with plenty of delicious muscle to match all that height. I imagined he would have gotten up from his desk, but he knew how I felt about my height and decided to stay sitting. His golden hair fell in waves to his shoulders; it looked so soft that my fingers itched to comb through it.

"Rowena, what a lovely surprise."

Wolfric was one of the few people I knew that actually called me Rowena. Maybe it was his age. After all seven hundred years ago in the Scottish Highlands, they didnt abbreviate names. Yep, that's right, Wolfric is a Scottish laird from seven hundred years ago. I'm not sure if he was born a vampire or turned into one. I've never asked.

I strolled over to his desk and hopped up to sit on the edge of it. I glared when his mouth twitched in the beginnings of a grin. I'm short and this is a freakishly tall desk, sue me.

Folding his arms over his chest, Wolfric sat back in his chair and lifted a brow, "So what is this police business of yours that was so important that you had to come to my home at," he paused and glanced at his Rolex. "Almost four o'clock in the morning?"

I dropped my huge folder on his desk, "This."

Sitting up, Wolfric carefully opened the file and proceeded to search through its contents. His amused smirk quickly vanished and his face grew gravely serious, then as I watched his face contorted with what seemed to be pure rage. I was impressed. This must be what he looked like on the Scottish battlefields. A rage filled Warrior. Who liked to wear jeans and snug sweater that matched his eyes and molded to his body.

Finally, Wolfric quickly closed the folder and pushed it away. With a growl, he pushed himself up from the desk and went to the window behind it and proceeded to stare intently out it.

I was quiet for a moment as I mentally processed his reaction, "So, I take it you didn't know about the murders?"

He spun around so fast it had me blinking in surprise. "Oh course not! If I'd known I would've been looking into it!"

When he's angry, I noted, his brogue thickens. "Don't you watch the news, Scottie? There aren't that many vampire killings in New York. Add to that a serial killing vampire, that's hot news."

Wolfric waved that question away with a snort, "I don't pay attention to the human news. It both disgusts and irritates me." He paused for a moment and shoved a hand through his hair, "I should've heard about this. Why haven't I heard about these killings?"

I held up a hand to halt his questions, "First off; if you don't watch the news, how would you hear of something like this in the first place? Where do you get your info?"

He rolled his beautiful green eyes at me, "Rowena, my sweet, I'm in charge of nearly every vampire in this lovely city of ours. This would be big news for many vampires and should've circulated back to me at some point. How long has this been going on?" He stepped towards his desk, as if to check the folder.

"A little over three months," I told him. Under different circumstances, I would've laughed hysterically at the dumbfounded look on his mouth-watering face. But in this case, it just didn't seem funny.

"_Three months_?!" he exclaimed, his brogue so thick now it sounded a lot like a growl.

I crossed my legs and better situated myself on the edge of his desk. "The police have been keeping this thing close under wraps," I added.

He gave me one of those looks men give women when they believe we are silly and inferior. "Oh please, Rowena. I know that despite the best attempts of the police to keep events like this quiet it eventually leaks out. And another thing," he started as he came back to stand in front of me. He stared down at me with his hands on hips. "You were called in on this case when?"

I didn't see where he was going with this and I let him see it on my face, "Tonight."

My brows lifted when he let out a vicious curse, "After twelve killings? Doesn't that seem a little strange to you? You're usually called in after the first couple of murders, Rowena. Why did they wait so long to fill you in?"

Hm, I really hadn't thought about that too much. I was too excited that I finally had a case to question it too much.

"Good question." I leaned over his desk and retrieved the file. I flipped through it until I came to the information on the victims. Whipping the paper out, I scanned its contents. Then I found it, "Aha! It's because not all of the killings took place in New York. They're scattered all over the country."

"And?"

Now I showed him my men-are-silly-creatures look, "We aren't the only state with a Hunters division, Wolfric. There aren't many but there are others. There are always squabbles going on between law enforcement over jurisdiction. I believe, since no one in the previous states has caught this bastard yet and also since the last few murders have take place in my  
city; where, I might add, we have the highest success rate at catching monstrous bad guys, the case was given to me."

A corner of Wolfric's mouth crooked up as he raised a brow, "_Your_ city?"

I ignored that and continued as though I hadn't heard that, "That could be why you haven't heard of it either. Only two murders have happened in New York and it takes time for you to get word of something like this."

He rubbed his hand over his chin, "That is true."

I opened my mouth to ask my next question when Wolfric glanced down at his watch and said, "Well would you look at the time. I'm sorry to rush you out the door, but I'm terribly busy. Too busy even for you, my dear," he said as he grasped my upper arms and lifted me off the desk as though I weighed nothing. Though, compared to him I was like a twig next to a log.  
Wolfric then placed his huge hands on my shoulders, whirled me around and all but pushed me towards the door.

At the door, he spun me around and sealed that excellent mouth over mine and proceeded to fry my brain.

Just as suddenly as he kissed me, he released me and pushed me out the door.

He grinned at me as I stared open-mouthed at him and just blinked, "Mitchell will show you out. We still have more to talk to about. We'll have dinner tomorrow night, I'll pick you up. Goodnight, Rowena. Sweet dreams."

The door shut sharply in my face and I didn't do more than stare at it as I clasped the file to my chest with my gym bag slung over my shoulder.

I gasped and whirled around at the tap on my shoulder, "_What_?!"

Mitchell smirked as he reminded me, "I was going to show you out."

My response was to blink stupidly at him and stutter, "U-uh, f-fine." Wolfric fried my brain cells so bad I seemed to be incapable of forming snappy words. Something I was usually very good at.

The werewolf threw back his head and laughed, his shoulders heaved with the effort, "Oh my God! You should see your _face_!"

I felt my face heat up and an unladylike growl rise in the back of my throat. "Shut up, you ass!" I shoved past him and started down the hallway, "I'll show myself out."

His hysterical laughter followed me as I stomped to the front door and to my waiting bike, cursing that pompous asshole and his dog of a servant under my breath the entire way.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sweet dreams, my ass," I grumbled as I lay awake in my bed staring up at the ceiling. Rolling over onto my side, I punched at my pillow in attempt to fluff it. It gave me very little satisfaction to imagine the pillow as Wolfric's fat head.

That kiss had pretty much stolen the promise of a good night sleep from me. Every time I try to close my eyes all I can see are Wolfric's eyes staring into mine as he kissed me senseless.

Why was it bothering me so much? This wasn't the first time he'd kissed me and it probably wouldn't be the last. Why it was different this time, I couldn't tell you, but it bothers me. And when something bothers me, it tends to piss me off.

Have dinner, I scoffed. Did he really think I'd go with him since he pretty much ordered me to? A lady likes to be asked.

On second thought, why shouldn't I go? Hell, I love to eat; and if Wolfric wants to pay for it, he can be my guest. They really did need to continue their talk and I'd be happier in his company if food was involved.

Fine, I decided, I'm going to dinner with Wolfric. Tossing in the bed onto my other side, I snuggled deeper under my Winnie the Pooh blanket, with matching sheets, with a new determination to get some sleep.

Behind my eyelids, my brain was still working in overdrive. I imagined Wolfric in a kilt and no shirt, his hair long and in war braids as he wielded a sword against an enemy. He moved with a grace I hadn't expected from such a large man as he feinted and blocked his foe's strikes. The other Scot stumbled and Wolfric found the opening he'd been waiting for. Raising his sword above his head, Wolfric let out an impressive battle cry as he thrust his sword deep into the chest of his enemy.

As the other man fell to the ground with Wolfric's sword impaling him, I watched as the light extinguished from his eyes and go glassy in death.

Yanking his weapon out of the corpse, the blond highlander crouched to wipe the blood from the blade on the other man's clothes.

The Wolfric from her imagination lifted his head and his eyes met hers for what seemed like an eternity.

I drifted off with those eyes in my thoughts.

Elton John's voice awoke me from my dream of eating pizza with the Queen of England. Jolting out of sleep, I groaned as I blindly searched for my cell with my face still in the pillow. I grunted in victory when I finally grasped it.

I cracked open one eye so I could press the answer button on my iPhone, ending the song about a Rocket man burning his fuel alone.

"What?" I'd tried for it to sound polite, but it only came out as a grumble.

That masculine chuckle came on the other line and it made me want to throw the phone across the room, "Ah, such a sweet sound to hear just after dusk."

I growled at the cheerfulness I detected in his voice, "What do you want?"

"I called to wake you up. We have a date tonight remember?"

My only reply was a grunt, my eyes were already starting to droop again.

"Rowena?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be ready," I hung up, ignoring him calling my name. I switched the phone to silent and then tossed it back onto my nightstand. I pulled the blanket over my head and was back asleep before I knew it.

"Rowena, wake up."

I grumbled something incoherent at the distance voice on the edges of my subconscious and only snuggled deeper under the covers.

When the covers were thrown off of me I let out a small squeak as the chill of the room hit me. "What?!" I let it out in an agonized groan that would've suited someone with an injury.

The lights in the room flared to life as whatever evil person in my room decided to flick them on. I buried my face in the pillow and let out a sorry moan.

"We have a date, Rowena," Wolfric's bur came from beside the bed.

"Just five more minutes...and it's not a date," it was muffled by the pillow, but I knew he heard me.

He let out an irritated sigh, "If I let you sleep for five more minutes, you'll only want five more. No, now get up."

Since he didn't seem to be going away anytime soon, I lifted my head from the pillow and glared through slitted eyes up at him, "I really hate you right now."

That only made him grin, which irritated me.

With a huff, I pushed myself up to sit on the side of my bed and looked up at him. Then something occurred to me and my sleep muddled brain sharpened slightly, "How the hell did you get in here?" When he only smiled, my eyes narrowed in blooming outrage, "Don't tell me you picked the lock psychically?"

Wolfric shook his beautiful blond head, "No, I wouldn't invade your privacy that much." He ignored my snort of disbelief and continued, "I charmed your land lady into letting me in."

Ms. Baker was seventy-two and sweet as sugar, it didn't surprise me that she'd let Wolfric in, especially if he'd put on the charm. He was damn good at talking to the ladies, no matter what their age.

I yawned as I got up, hugging my pillow to my stomach, "I need a shower." I started to go to my closet when I felt his eyes on me. Glancing over my shoulder, I asked him, "What are you looking at?"

The corner of his mouth lifted as he eyed my pajamas, "I'm a little disappointed that you don't sleep in more...enticing sleeping attire."

I looked down at my Spongebob sleep shorts and the over-sized T-shirt that proclaimed: **_I hate Mondays_**. I shrugged, "It's comfy."

His teeth flashed in a grin, "So is sleeping nude."

That put images in my head that I attempted, without much success, to block. Shaking my head I went to my closet and started pawing through my clothes, "Don't start with me, Wolfric. I'm not very happy with you for waking me up."

"I called first," he pointed out.

"That reminds me," I found a little red dress I deemed appropriate for many occasions and draped it over my shoulder then proceeded to search for matching shoes, "Why the hell did I ever give you my number in the first place?"

He chuckled, "Frankly, my dear, I believe it's because I'm charming." The chuckle turned into a full laugh when I threw the pillow at him and it bounced off his chest to land on the floor.

I took my sweet little ol' time in the shower. If Wolfric didn't like it then he could go screw himself.

After the shower, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself. At the mirror I fussed very little with my hair; it was too curly to do much with. I wriggled into the red dress before putting on some mascara and lipstick, that was all the makeup I needed really. My lashes were thick, so I didn't need eye liner and my ivory skin was flawless so I had no use for foundation.

Rummaging in my jewelry box, I pulled out some diamond drops that she'd gotten from an old boyfriend for Christmas a few years back and found the necklace that matched, the diamond drops coming to rest between my breasts. Which looked amazing in the dress, if I might add.

I slipped into the crimson heels and did a little twirl as I looked in the mirror to make sure I made the grade. When I decided I was fit for duty, I grinned at myself in the mirror and winked, "Looking good, kid."

Maybe it was vanity, but I felt quite a bit of satisfaction at the heated look in Wolfric's eyes as I stepped out of the bathroom.

He walked up to stand before me as he studied my very seriously from head to toe. His prolonged silence was starting to make me uneasy, "Do I pass inspection, General?"

When his eyes traveled back up to mine, the look in them had something in my belly clenching. "Oh, I believe," he purred as he stroked a hand over my shoulder, "you more than pass."

My mouth went dry at the hot look in his green eyes, but I refused to mess up my lipstick by licking my lips.

Clearing my throat, I slid away from his touch and stepped around him to grab my purse and slip my badge along with my Browning into it. Thinking twice, I grabbed the folder about my case and tucked it under my arm.

I glared as I caught Wolfric staring at my chest, he only raised a brow in amusement.

"Where's your lapdog tonight?" I asked.

He chuckled at my reference to Mitchell as he started towards my door, "He's in the car. He'll be driving us to the location of our date."

I glowered at his back as I followed him to the door, "It's not a date."

At the door, he turned and raised a brow at my attire, "You're dressed up awfully nice for it not to be a date."

I scoffed at that, "I know you, Wolfric. You've got expensive tastes, I know the place will be ritzy looking and I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb."

He yanked me against so fast I hadn't even seen him move. Brushing his lips over mine, he whispered against my lips, "I don't believe anyone will mistake you for a sore thumb, my sweet. You'll be the belle of the ball and I, the object of other mens' envy."

Oh my, I thought, he was damn good. I stepped back and reached past him to open the door, "Spare me."

As I stepped out of my apartment, I thought I heard him whisper behind me, "For now."


	6. Chapter 6

The restaurant _was_ fancy, dammit.

Wolfric had taken me to one of the ritziest places in the city, it was one of those fancy French restaurants. I'm not even going to try to pronounce the name of it. It would probably only embarrass all of us.

As Mitchell pulled over to the curb, I couldn't help but glare at the sneer he sent me in the rear-view mirror. He'd been giving me smug looks from that damn mirror for the last twenty minutes. And I'm getting very tired of it.

"Shouldn't you be opening the door for us? Since you're the butler and all," I asked him dryly.

The werewolf only shrugged off my comment, "You're both big kids now. I think you can handle it yourselves."

I raised a brow and looked up at Wolfric, my face serious, "I think you need a new driver. One that isn't so mouthy."

Mitchell snorted at that from the front seat and muttered under his breath, "Like you're one to talk." I ignored him.

"Or smells like a dog," I added just because I could.

Wolfric shook his head at our banter but didn't comment or add his two cents, instead he opened the door and stepped out of the BMW. Bending down, he offered me a hand, "Shall we?"

Why not? I thought, and placed my hand in his.

He lifted me effortlessly out of the car and waited for me to situate my dress, my purse, and the folder I carried.

Always the gentleman, Wolfric offered me his arm and I grudgingly slipped my arm through his. Mitchell pulled away from the curve and drove away to look for a parking space. As I watched the black car disappear around the corner I couldn't help but feel a bit trapped.

Wolfric led me into the restaurant and, of course, held the door open for me. I made a face at him before stepping through the door. I wasn't used to a man with so many manners. I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.

The host's face lit up at the sight of Wolfric. He looked exactly like the French restaurant hosts you'd see on the black suit and the silly little mustache he was almost complete. The only thing he was missing was a thick french accent.

He didn't even glance twice at me. "Monsieur Wolfric! It is so nice to see you again. Your usual table is ready for you, as you requested." His excitement reminded me of a a dog that wriggles in delight when his master finally comes home.

Wolfric pressed a bill into the man's hands, "Thank you, Maxwell."

We followed the little man to a table in the back. Red candles and roses sat in the middle of the table, and there was more silverware on it than I had in my entire apartment. How the hell am I supposed to use all those things for one meal?

The host stepped aside while Wolfric held my chair out for me, the menus clutched to his chest. Once we were both seated, he placed the them in front of us and gave a semi-regal bow, "You two enjoy your meal."

I gladly watched him leave before I turned a glare on my dining partner for the evening, "So they know you by name here?"

He only shrugged and picked up his menu and proceeded to scan it.

"You bring a lot of your dates here, huh?" I said drolly.

The Master Vampire still wouldn't meet my eyes, "A few."

I pondered on that while I scanned the room, then I noticed something about the other tables, "Wolfric, why are there roses on our table and not on any of the others?"

If I hadn't been watching his face closely, I might have missed the slight twitch in his jaw, "Maybe they did it out of consideration."

I raised a brow in disbelief at that, "You don't ever come here alone, do you?"

With a sigh, Wolfric finally set down his menu and looked at me, "Alright, I only ever bring women here and I usually request roses to be put on the table. This time I didn't, they only assumed."

With a shake of my head, I picked up my menu and glanced down at it. Then I just goggled at it; the entire thing was written in French.

Screw it. I shut my menu and laid it in front of me.

Our waiter decided to show up with a bottle of wine. He didn't even asked if we wanted any, just proceeded to pour it. I glanced at Wolfric who didn't take his eyes off his glass, which the waiter was filling up. He must bring a _ton_ of dates here if they know his choice even before he asks for it.

With our glasses full, he stepped back and asked me, "Are you ready to order, Madam?"

I pointed at Wolfric, "What about him?"

The waiter glanced at the man in question, "Oh, Monsieur Wolfric always gets the same thing when he comes."

I smiled slowly up at him and folded my hands under my chin, "Oh really? And what would that be?"

He blinked down at me, then seemed to shake himself before answering, "Why a medium rare steak with shrimp, of course."

With a smaller smile, I sat back and handed my menu to him, "That'll be fine."

After he disappeared I grinned mischievously at the man across from me, "So much for hiding behind the menu, huh?"

Wolfric covered his face with one of his big hands, "I shouldn't have brought you here."

"Damn, skippy," I agreed. "I'm not one of your dates." I watched as the host led two well dressed, pretty women by our table. The two couldn't take their eyes off of Wolfric and nearly bumped into the host when he stopped at their table. With a chuckle I nodded towards the pair, "But I'm sure you can find someone that'll be interested in a date with you."

Wolfric raised his eyes from his hand, but he didn't look towards the women. Instead those incredibly green eyes burned holes through me. He was not happy.

"When will you get it through your thick head that you're not just any woman?" He didn't take those green eyes off of me and I could feel my face getting hot.

I'll admit that I fumbled a little bit with the folder, "So, uh, why don't we talk about the case?"

He took a long sip of wine, studying me over the rim of the glass. Wolfric stared at me so long that I'd started to fidget in my seat. Finally, he shrugged, "I'll allow you to change the subject. Fine, let's talk business."

I sighed with relief, we were on a topic I was comfortable with. Digging into my purse, I pulled out a small notebook with SpongeBob on it and a pen. "I went to the bar where the latest victim was found. It was a little bar called Bloody Mary's, you know it?"

He nodded, "Yes, Daniel Baxter is the owner of the place. He's a good man."

I continued, "The night the victim was killed Daniel told me he felt a powerful presence in his bar. He could sense it, but he couldn't find where it was coming from. None of the humans or the younger vampires in the club sensed it at all."

"Hm," Wolfric said thoughtfully. "Whoever it is, he's powerful."

I nodded, "I believe so. When I asked Daniel how old this vampire might be he told me a thousand years."

Wolfric whistled, "Impressive."

"Do you know of anyone who lives in the city that is that old or powerful?"

Sitting back in his chair, Wolfric closed his eyes in thought. While he thought it over, I took the time to study him. I often find myself doing that. Tonight he was wearing a dark grey suit and a white shirt underneath. The shirt was snug and seemed to mold to the muscles on his chest.

Glancing up, I found Wolfric watching me with a cocky grin spreading his lips. He'd caught me red-handed.

With my cheeks warming in embarrassment, I cleared my throat, "So, can you think of anyone?"

Wolfric folded his arms over his chest, causing the muscles to flex. My eyes flicked down for a second, but I'm pretty sure he did that on purpose since his grin only widened.

"The only vampire that old that I know of in this city is Leargan. As for who might be powerful enough; Leargan is definitely one, then there's me, and Valerie."

I took down their names, "Where can I find Leargan and Valerie?"

He chuckled, "They live underneath my club."

I gaped at him, "Excuse me?"

"Why, Rowena, did you not know that there are dozens of rooms underneath the club where some of my vampires stay?"

I hadn't, but I wasn't going to admit that, "Of course I knew that. I just didn't think you kept such powerful people around you."

He raised an eyebrow at me. He obviously didn't believe me, but he didn't call me out on it. Smart man.

"You don't really believe it was one of them, do you?" I asked.

Wolfric shook his head, "No, I do not. From what I read in that file of yours, the murderer mainly attacks women and he rapes them. So Valerie could not have done it."

"But she could know who might have," I interjected.

He smiled at me, "That is true. Valerie is... acquainted with a lot of men."

I rolled my eyes, "So what about this Leargan? Could he have done this?"

Wolfric rubbed a hand over his jaw, "He is certainly capable of it. But I've known him for two centuries and I don't believe he could do something like this."

"Have you had any new vampires arrive in the last couple of months?"

He shrugged, "Yes, of course. This is New York, Rowena. There are hundreds of humans that come here from all parts of the world. Why should it be different for vampires?"

I scowled at him, "Smartass. I mean have any of the new arrivals been as powerful or as old as my killer?"

He shook his head, "The one's I've met? No. I haven't sensed any large presences enter the city either."

I sighed and closed my notebook, "Damn, I don't have much to go on at all."

Something slid over my hand; startled, I looked down. Wolfric had laid his larger hand over mine. I looked up at him in question and found him dead serious, "I'll help you out as much as I can on this case, Rowena. I'll get my vampires to ask around and keep their ears to the ground for any information."

I frowned and slipped my hand out from underneath his, "You don't have to do that. This is my case: my case, my problem."

"I want to help you, Rowena," he said gently.

"I don't need help," I said defensively.

In a flash, Wolfric lashed out and grabbed my hand. Before I knew it, he'd pulled me halfway across the table so that our faces were only a few inches apart. Luckily, he'd pulled me a little to the side so I missed the candle and the roses. If my hair burned there would be hell to pay.

"Let me go," I hissed through my teeth.

He pushed his face closer, "I was too fast for you, Rowena. This vampire is three hundred years older than I am and he's very good at mind control, maybe better than me. You're good, but this guy may be better. You shouldn't try to take this monster on by yourself. I will do anything to keep you from getting hurt, even if you hate me for it."

My eyes widened at that last bit, _what_ was going on with Wolfric lately? I tugged harder, though in vain, to try to get my hand back, "Let me go, you idiot. You're going to cause a scene." I was pretty sure we had _already_ caused a scene.

He released me and I plopped back down in my seat with my wrist held in my other hand. I growled at him, "You are so damn lucky this is a nice place and I'm all dolled up, or else I'd storm out of here in a heartbeat, bub."

Sensing my anger, he turned up the charm, "You look far nicer than any doll I've ever seen, my dear."

"I hope you choke on that steak of yours," I said, my voice thick with malice.

He threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh, "Oh, Rowena. I do love that fiery spirit of yours."

The waiter chose that moment to arrive with our dinner before I could fire back with a come back. Wolfric grinned at me from across the table as the waiter set the plate in front of him, "It looks delicious. I do sincerely hope I don't choke on this lovely meal."

I flipped him off, screw not making a scene, I didn't care that we were in a fancy restaurant anymore. It only succeeded in making him laugh again.

The waiter stared at us both like we were crazy, but he was smart enough (or liked his job enough) to keep his mouth shut. He slunk back to the kitchen, probably to tell the rest of the staff about the crazy broad with the Master Vampire.

I picked up a fork and a knife, but Wolfric snatched my plate and brought it towards him before I could dig in. I stared at him like he'd grown another head. No one, I mean no one, gets between me and my eats. He proceeded to cut my steak up into little bits with a straight face. When he was finished, he set it back in front of me and cut into his own steak like he hadn't just stolen my plate from under my nose and cut my steak like I was a child.

"What the hell was that for?" I demanded.

He finished chewing, swallowed then said, "That steak looked too big for your delicate mouth. I only wanted to make sure you wouldn't choke on it." He smiled beautifully at me.

I threw a shrimp in his face.


	7. Chapter 7

I sighed with pleasure as Wolfric and I waited for Mitchell to bring the car around to the front of the restaurant. I patted my stomach, "I hate to admit it, but that was a damn fine meal, Wolfric."

"That's probably the nicest thing you've said to me all night."

I nudged him in the side with my elbow, "Very funny, wise guy." I intertwined my fingers together and stretched my arms up over my head as I asked, "So, when do I get to meet the elusive Miss Valerie and Mister Leargan?"

Wolfric glanced down at the Rolex on his wrist, "Not until tomorrow night, I'm afraid."

I glanced at him from narrowed eyes, "And why is that?"

He held out the watch so I could read the time, it was almost three in the morning. "It is too close to dawn, Rowena. Your beautiful skin may not be affected by the sun, but mine and others do. So, I'm afraid your interrogation will have to wait until tomorrow night."

I folded my arms with a pout. Pooh, I didn't like waiting. "Fine. I'll swing by your club around midnight or so to question your vamps."

I raised a brow when Wolfric lifted my free hand to his lips and laid a kiss on the top. "I would be glad," he practically purred, "to pick you up, my dear."

I chuckled, but slipped my hand well away from his mouth. Distance was safer. "I bet you would, Slick. But I need to spend a few hours in the office tomorrow. You know how it is."

Wolfric frowned and started to open his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the car's arrival. Phew.

I slid inside and Wolfric joined me in the backseat.

I clapped my hands and spoke in a snooty British accent, "Take me home, Roger."

Mitchell swiveled around in his seat and wrapped an arm around the back of his chair, with a raised brow he asked me, "Roger?"

I shrugged and cut the accent, "I've always wanted a butler named Roger."

He shook his head and looked at his boss in question.

"Let's take her home, Mitchell," Wolfric said from beside me.

With a nod, Mitchell turned back around and drove. He was trained very well. Woof.

The car was silent as it made the trek back to my apartment, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence though. Thank God for that. I think Wolfric was thinking about my case, and I was thinking about how my interrogations would go tomorrow.

It was rather irritating that I couldn't get it over with tonight. It would've given me a sense of accomplishment if I'd actually done some detective work instead of eating (though the food was terrific). This case is a tricky one, and if Wolfric's goons aren't the ones I'm looking for then I'm not sure where I'll go from there.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, there was one person I could talk to. Someone who knew the streets like the back of his hand and made it his business to know everyone and everything about this city. If something fishy was going on under the radar in New York, say a serial killing vamp, then my informant would know at least something about it.

All I needed to do was pay him a little visit. Tomorrow night, I decided, I'd go and see him tomorrow night before I went into the office. I grinned to myself, going to see Nicholas Marx was always a fun time.

I peered out the window and was a little surprised to see that we had already turned down my street. How long had I been lost in thought?

I jumped a bit when Wolfric took my hand from where it lay on the seat and cradled it between the two of his. I raised a brow as I looked between him and the hand he clasped.

His thumb drew invisible circles over the top of my hand as he searched my face. "So many expressions that pass over those eyes," he observed. "It intrigues me. Makes me wonder what is running through that quick mind of yours." His eyes sharpened as they focused on mine, "What makes your eyes sparkle in glee, Rowena?"

Was I that easy to read? I wondered. Or was he just really good at this sort of thing? I was betting on a bit of both. I tried to slip my hand out, but he held on and refused to give it up. I glared at him as I replied, "I was thinking about the case. Can I have my hand back now? I'm rather fond of it."

As the car came to a stop, Wolfric slowly and reluctantly released my hand, "If your job give you that my pleasure, my dear, I can't wait to see what expression you give to men you fancy."

I rolled my eyes at that, "Wouldn't you like to know."

He didn't bother to make a comment as I thought he would. Wolfric remained silent as the car came rolling to a stop in front of my apartment building and still as he climbed out on his side and made his way around to my door. The silence was starting to give me the willies, Wolfric wasn't the silent type and his lack of retort was unnerving.

Like the gentlemen, Wolfric opened my door for me and I struggled to slide out of the car without flashing the world what I had on under my dress. When I manged to get out, I fumbled with my purse and the folder before I turned to Wolfric, "Thanks for the grub. I'll probably be by your club somewhere around midnight."

He didn't reply, which heightened my nerves a bit more. I shrugged, "Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

I began to turn away, but he grabbed me by the arm and stopped me. Wrapping one arm around my waist, Wolfric brought me against him. Deja Vu, this situation seemed very familiar. I placed my free hand on Wolfric's chest and pushed, with no prevail, "Oh no you don't. You're not going to catch me by surprise this time, Buster."

He didn't seem to hear me since he continued to lean in. So I reached up and flicked him on the ear. That got his attention, much to my relief, but he didn't back off.

"You don't want me to?" he asked in that burr of his.

"Hell-!" that was as far as I got before he struck. The cheating bastard sneak-attacked me.

The hand that wasn't wrapped around me, snuck up to tangle itself in my hair. Wolfric angled my neck up so he didn't have to bend as much and so he could deepen the kiss.

My first thought was to push him away and punch him right in the schnoz. But then my eyes began to go blurry and I decided to shut them for a bit, I'd kill Wolfric in a minute. Or two. Next thing I knew I was kissing him back. Sue me, I'm a healthy woman with a even healthier libido that seems to have a hankering for tall and hunky, Scottish vampires. Can you really blame me?

Have I mentioned that Wolfric has a wonderfully delicious mouth? Well he sure does know how to use it. My head was swimming by the time we finally broke apart. I was very pleased with myself when I realized that Wolfric was breathing as hard as I was. I'm a good kisser too.

He didn't straighten, instead he kept his lips just above mine. "Come back to my house with me, Rowena."

I had to swallow several times before I could speak, "I don't think so."

I watched frustration cloud his eyes, "Why for _God's sake_? You want me as much as I want you, why not just give in to what we both want?"

On legs that were a little shaky, I stepped back and out of Wolfric's arms, "I'm not that easy, Wolfric. It's going to take a bit more than a few heated kisses before I just jump in the sack with you." No matter how much I really, really want to, I silently added.

Wolfric let out a growl that would've done a real wolf proud as he thrust his hands into his thick hair and pulled. He paced away and then back, away and then back again. I watched in fascination, I've never seen him so uncontrolled before. If I wasn't so affected by that kiss, I would be on the ground now rolling with laughter.

He stalked back over to me and stood in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. "Okay, Rowena," he said to me in a hoarse voice. "You need time, I can understand that. But-," he interjected before I could speak. "Don't expect me to wait too long." Those heated green eyes fixed on me, "I've wanted you too long and too much to wait for much longer."

My jaw creaked with the force I used to grit my teeth, "You arrogant son of a bitch! You're just so sure that I'll just come crawling to you in a few days?! Sorry, sweetie, but no man gets me unless I want to be got!" I whirled away and stomped towards the door to my building. Before I shut the door I decided to give him one last taste of my temper, "If I need sex, that doesn't mean I need you to scratch that itch!"

I slammed the door and trudged up the stairs, mumbling curses aimed at that slimy, cocky bastard the entire way.

I unlocked the door to my apartment with quick and angry motions. Pushing my way inside I automatically kicked off my heels and dropped my stuff on the counter.

"I can't believe," I said between my teeth as I stormed to my room, "that I got all gussied up for that ass." I slipped out of the dress tossed it and the bra and panties in the dirty clothes hamper. I padded naked over to my dresser as I pummeled through my clothes for some pajamas. I pulled on an oversize black t-shirt, still thinking about doing some bodily harm to that asshole Wolfric.

As I wiped off my lipstick and brushed my teeth I finally started to calm down a little bit. Not much, I was still hopping mad, but I was starting to cool off.

Climbing into bed, I still thought it was very insulting that Wolfric was so sure that he was going to get me. Sure I liked kissing him, but did that mean I wanted to bang him every time I got near him? No way. My libido called me a liar.

Maybe I'd take Jace with me to Wolfric's club tomorrow, I thought with a yawn. Show that Scottish idiot that I could get any good looking man I wanted. That I wasn't dying to have him and only him.

Yeah, I'd like to see the look on Wolfric's face when I walk in the door with another man on my arm. Maybe I'd ask Jace about it tomorrow.

I fell asleep with a mischievous smile on my lips.


	8. Chapter 8

The next night Dana found me in my office. I was finishing up some important business in my office before I planned to go and track down that dirty rat Nicky Marx.

Dana leaned lazily up against the doorjamb of my open door and eyed me as I lay back in my office chair, my booted feet up on the desk, laptop in my lap, and a small bag of popcorn in my hand.

Brows that were darker blond than her short bleach blond hair (I was _sooo_ jealous of that cute pink streak she'd run through it) rose over bored, deep blue eyes, "You look busy, as usual."

I appreciated the sarcasm. "I'm conducting some serious research," I told her seriously.

She grunted sarcastically and sauntered around my desk to peer over my shoulder at the screen. Right at the good part too, Bugs Bunny had just declared it was rabbit season and Daffy turned the gun on himself.

That was when Dana hit the power button.

I pouted up at her over my shoulder, "You're despicable."

"Boss man wants you," she told me as she straightened.  
_  
Uh-oh_, I thought. I glanced down at my watch and let out a gasp, "Golly, is it that time already? Well," I hopped to my feet and grabbed my gym bag, "I've got to head out. Tell Boss that I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it, but you know what a busy girl I am. I'll stop by his office some other time."

I caught the smirk on Dana's face and froze. Shoot. Busted. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Uh-huh," came the man-in-question's voice from behind me.

Damn, caught before I could skip town. I pasted a bright smile on my face and spun, "Hey there, Chief. My! Don't you look handsome today."

He eyed the half-eaten bag of popcorn in my hand, then folded his arms over his chest, "I want an update, RJ."

Nah, shit. "Well...you see, Chief. By the way, did you do something to your hair recently? 'Cause it looks fantastic today."

Dana snatched the popcorn out of my hand and plopped herself down in my chair and assumed the position I had been in just moments ago. She let out a laugh that had her nose stud flashing in the lights as she took a handful and stuffed her face, "Oh boy, this is gonna be good."

I was busy planning some nasty things I was going to do to Dana's coffee later as I faced the Chief with a less than cheerful grin.

"Update. Now."

Gritting my teeth, I braced for the explosion, "I don't have one."

I wasn't sure which was worse; the dead silence or the explosion of unrelenting fury that I had expected.

"And why is that exactly?" I don't think I've ever heard the Chief's voice so restrained before. Like the calm before the storm, it foreshadows danger.

I cleared my throat loudly, "W-well...you see, Chief. The reason I've got nothing is because...well... it's because I haven't found any really good leads yet. But I'm working on it."

I watched my Boss's eyes flick over to my desk and watched the tiny gears start to work in his brain. Laptop plus popcorn, plus desk and chair equals no work being done. And no work being done equals a very unhappy boss.

I hurried to explain, "I'm waiting around here to kill time before I head out to follow up on some other leads."

Fisting his big hands on his hips he remained silence and waited expectantly.

"First I'm going to go and see one of my rats...er, I mean, informants. Then I'm going to Blood City to question some of the Master's older and powerful vampires that could've done this."

"Have you talked to the Master himself?" the Chief butted in.

I barely restrained the sarcastic remark that was about to spurt from my lips. "Yes. He wasn't even aware of the murders around the country and he's just as determined to find the culprit as the authorities are, Chief."

Dana spoke from behind them, her mouth full of popcorn, "Couldn't the Master have committed the act himself and is just playing dumb."

I tried to imagine Wolfric tearing open the victims in the same manner I'd seen in the crime scene photos. For some reason, I just couldn't picture it. "I know Wolfric. He does not fit the profile for the vampire I'm after. He's not old enough and unlike my killer he's sane, not a complete psycho."

The Chief was silent as he pondered what I had told him. Finally he glared at me, "If you have some probable leads then get to them now. I don't want to see you lazing around in your office again until I have the ashes of the bastard on my desk. Is that clear, RJ?"

My boots clomped together at the heels as I saluted my boss, "Sir, yes, sir! I will fulfill the mission and job that I am getting paid the very minimal and pitiful amount of money to perform, Sir!"

Dana snorted on a laugh behind me, but the boss, who was too used to my smart ass remarks just ignored it and left my office. I was glad to see him go.

Relaxing, I turned to Dana, who was still scarfing down my popcorn, "Please tell me there is still some of that left."

She tilted the back so I could look inside it and smiled brilliantly at my expression as I spied the empty contents, "Oopsie daisy."

I snatched the empty bag and threw it into the trash bin. Pointing at the door, I stomped my foot in irritation, "Out. Now."

Dana smirked, but did as I asked.

I watched her go with a frown, but when she was finally out of my sight my frown broke into a full blown grin. Damned if I didn't like Dana. My personalty and hers are too similar; if I hated her, then I'd have to hate a small part of myself as well.

Blowing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes, I checked my watch. Ten thirty, I'd better get moving if I was going to catch Nicky Marx at his usual hangout on a Friday night.

I packed up my stuff and slung my bag over my shoulder just as Jace ducked inside the office doorway, an open bag of Doritos in his hands. "Shit. Did I miss cartoon time already?"

I'd texted Jace earlier to see if he wanted in on some Looney Toons. He was out on an assignment, he'd said, but if he had the time he'd swing by.

"I'm afraid so, big guy. The Chief came in to bust up the party," I replied as I turned around to face him.

Despite him munching on chips, Jace was still a hunk and the way he was eying my empty desk was downright sexy.

"You gotta be anywhere quick?" he asked me as he backed me slowly but surely towards my desk with sexy but serious purpose.

I laughed and patted him on the chest, "Whoa there, big fella. Yeah, I do in fact have somewhere to be. Chief's kicking me out until I can solve the case."

"Bummer," he said as he stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth.

"Sure is. But, hey, I'll be done with case in no time. See you then?"

He grinned wickedly, "You know I've always got time got time for my best girl, RJ."

I grinned right back, "Okay, Tex. It's a date then." I walked around him and headed out the door, "See ya' later, cowboy."

As I headed out the door, I was more than a little worried that I wasn't as attracted to Jace as I usually was. Somehow, his invitation of hot and sweaty office sex wasn't very appealing.

That was a scary situation, since the reason I believe I'm not reacting to one attractive man is because of a certain other sexy vampire with a Scottish bur.

If I'm losing interest in Jace, my on and off boy toy for the last couple of years because of Wolfric, then I'm in serious trouble.


End file.
